


You Suck at Shooting

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Pre series, Summer, Wee!chesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 10:22:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean bets a clean Impala that he can shoot better than Sam on a hot afternoon. Sounds like a brotherly water fight to me! Thanks to my betas!</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Suck at Shooting

If Dean had whined about about it being a hundred degrees, Sam doubted it would be much an overstatement. Luckily for the Winchester brothers, John had gone off on one of his rare joint-hunts, leaving the Impala for Dean to drive the ten miles between the rental and school.

Sam pressed his temple against the passenger window, hoping the glass would be cool against his skin, but it was disappointingly warm. Dean pulled into the crappy motel parking lot, situated on the outer outskirts of town, beside a dark forest. Sam felt his brother's eyes on him Dean pulled on the handbrake and turned off the engine.

"You got any homework, Sammy?" he asked casually.

"No," Sam replied hesitantly.

"Great!" Dean said enthusiastically, stepping out of the car. "Dad wants you to have some shooting practice."

"Dean, c'mon, man, it's way too hot! Can't we just go inside at turn the shitty air-conditioner up?" Sam groaned, joining his brother.

"Nope. Come on, Sam, you suck at shooting," Dean smirked and made his way up to the motel door, unlocking it.

"I do not! I'm better than you!" Sam retorted with an almighty bitch-face.

"Oh, yeah? I bet twenty dollars I shoot better than you this afternoon," Dean called as Sam slowly joined him inside the dank room.

"I don't have twenty dollars," Sam snapped.

 

"Excuses, excuses," Dean tutted, grabbing the shooting gear.

"Fine. The Impala has been a looking a bit dirty--" Sam was interrupted by Dean's offended gasp. "--I'll wash her if I can't shoot better than you."

Dean considered it for a moment, handing Sam a gun. "Alright, then."

The brothers made their way through the back door of the motel room into the dark forest. Sam hoped that the shade might grant some relief from the heat, but really, it was just humid. Sam turned away as Dean spray-painted some four-ringed red targets on the thick tree trunks.

"Ready, Sam?" Dean asked, and Sam cocked his gun. "Go!"

Sam spun around and quickly shot at the three targets Dean had set up.

"Thirteen seconds, Sammy, any slower and you'd be dead!" Dean growled and went to inspect the targets as Sam glared at him.

"Alrighty, two second rings, and one third. Not bad, enough to injure, but you didn't quite kill. Here," Dean said, handing the spray paint to Sam and turning away. Sam huffed and did his duty.

"Ready?" he asked dolefully. "Go,"  
Dean jumped around and within four seconds had hit all three targets right in the middle. Sam rolled his eyes and briefly considered shooting his brother. Enough to injure, not quite to kill, of course. Dean turned and saw his brother's downcast expression.

"Okay, that's enough shooting practice for today. I know what'll cool you down! Washing my car!" Dean exclaimed, wrapping his arm around Sam's slender shoulders. Sam shrugged him off.

"S'not your car, Dean," he said bluntly and Dean chuckled, leading the way back to the motel room.  
Sam ruefully got a dusty green bucket from the cleaning cupboard and an old, holey t-shirt and some dish-washing liquid to clean the car. He filled the bucket in the sink and silently went outside to see his bet through.

Dean sat on the verandah, watching with a smirk as Sam rinsed the car and began scrubbing. Sam wrung the shirt out and slapped it on the hood, rubbing the suds in, none-too-gently.

"Hey, woah, hey! Sammy, not like that!" Dean shouted, running down to the car. "You'll wreck the paint!" Dean snatched the shirt from Sam and gently ran in over the hood of the car, slowly, carefully, precisely getting rid of the dirt. "Like that, see? You try," he said, handing the shirt back to Sam who was positively glowering.

Sam took the shirt and dunked it in the bucket, but he didn't wring it out, instead he brought it waist height and slapped it across his brothers torso.

"Oh, it is on, you little bitch!" Dean growled malevolently, grinning madly. He dove for the hose and sprayed it at Sam who deftly dove behind the car, laughing gleefully.

Sam jumped up and threw the shirt at his brother, realizing his mistake a second too late; he'd lost his only weapon. Dean hooted as he also realized Sam was defenseless and mercilessly sprayed him with water, the younger brother barely managing to duck behind the car once again.

He sat on the hot, wet ground wondering how on earth he could possibly win this water fight, when Dean appeared around the side of the car, green bucket in hands.

"Oh, shit!" Sam groaned and tried to scramble to his feet but it was too late. Dean poured the soapy water straight on top oh his little brothers head, and exploded into laughter as Sam collapsed onto his back, lying on the ground, coughing and spluttering. Dean dropped onto the ground next to him, still laughing, and the corner of Sam's mouth twitched up into a smile.

"Oh, man, you should have seen your face when you saw me with that bucket!" Dean wheezed. Sam chuckled quietly, looking at his relatively dry brother.

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah, Sam-- Oof!" Dean was winded as Sam tackled him onto his back, covering Dean's body with his own wet one, holding onto his big brother tightly, letting the water soak through to Dean as well. Sam shook his great shaggy head, drops of water flicking all over Dean and Sam laughed joyfully, returning to his position on his back.

"You were right, Dean, that did cool me down," Sam sighed happily, beaming up at the cornflower blue sky. Dean rolled onto his side and looked at his brother, relishing one of the younger boys' rare, genuine smiles.


End file.
